A Night of Uncomfortable Truths
by LitRaptor42
Summary: Maya and Edgeworth are working together on a case involving spirit channeling, with Phoenix aiding. Some Phoenix/Edgeworth what else? , but mostly conversations following a bad earthquake.
1. The Office

I never, ever, ever write follow-up stories for other another person's fanfic if they haven't yet marked it as complete. Never.

Therefore it's a complete mystery to me as to why this is a follow-up to the brilliant but unfinished "Struggling Against Gravity", by musouka and Aria. The premise is that Phoenix and Edgeworth have been in a somewhat awkward relationship for several months, and Maya doesn't yet know. However, that single sentence is not a substitue for reading the original fanfic: in fact, if you haven't, leave now and Google it.

But do come back. This is my first PW fanfic and I'm quite fond of it. I'm also going to go very slowly and publish very short chapters, since I usually tend to publish 15,000-word stories in chunks of three or four. I suspect it's getting on my readers' nerves.

* * *

Chapter One – The Office

* * *

"Oh, please, Nick? Do we have time?" she begged me, eyes alight, hands clasped under her chin. She reminded me of a very tall child, her mouth set in a pleading moue. Far from being obnoxious, it was irresistable.

"Um," I answered, unable to look at the face of the man beside me, knowing that my cheeks were flaming red. "You know, Maya, it's not my office."

"You're right!" she exclaimed, and turned to Edgeworth. Unruffled as always, he just raised an eyebrow. "Please, Mr. Edgeworth? Nick's told me all about your tea set, and the neat old coat you keep on the wall." She looked up pensively for a moment, chin perched on a hand; now she reminded me of her sister. "Of course, he didn't tell me much about them. You know how Nick is with details. But still, I'm sure your office is much better than ours!"

"It is," said Edgeworth dryly (and truthfully, having seen our office some time before.) I couldn't help but grin sheepishly as his eyes flicked to me. But he, too, was unable to resist Maya's charm, and sighed. Maya and I had stopped on the 12th floor to retrieve a document from the prosecuting attorney involved in our last case, and of course had run into my old friend. Such things always happened. "I believe I might have left a few important files on my desk: you might as well accompany me in retrieving them before I go."

"Cool!" Maya exclaimed, face blazing with pleasure, practically batting her eyelashes at Edgeworth. Again, irresistable. Another defense attorney, younger than I, had once worked up the courage to ask me why young girls were always following me around my office. Then I'd invited him in, introduced Pearl and Maya, and within ten minutes he'd realized that it wasn't me who ordered the girls around: most of the time it was the opposite.

I followed her, the bow on her robes bobbing in anticipation as Edgeworth got out his key to unlock the door to 1201. I'd seen his office several times since defending Lana Skye, and not much ever changed. Neat stacks of papers sometimes piled up on his desk at various busier moments, but no more than that. Never the clutter and dust that graced every available surface area at Wright & Co...

Maya's eyes were huge, her lips practically dripping an "Oooo," as she took in the pink tea set, the framed pink jacket on the wall, the pink chess set, and the otherwise pink decor. I myself had always more admired - from a distance, of course - the panoramic view from the windows, and even more so the impressively huge (and not pink) stereo built into the gigantic bookshelves, but then... this was Maya, and that was me.

"I love it!" she declared, as Edgeworth took the single file sitting on his desk and slipped it in among the others in his slim briefcase. Some ambience was filtering through the room (to my unpracticed ear it sounded like chamber music), and she swayed blissfully. "Nick, we need to redecorate. Make our office just like this."

"Okay. You get a job as a Mafia boss to pay for it, and it's a deal."

She glared at me momentarily (and good-humoredly) as Edgeworth made a strangled sound, very obviously trying not to laugh. "Fine. I'll just go work for that Cadaverini guy. Then the next thing you know you'll be cleaning toilets, and it'll be the Fey and Co Law Offices." She grinned. "Again, I guess."

Despite a twinge of pain at the thought of Mia, I had to laugh at the way Maya had turned the tables on me. "All right, all right. Come on, I thought you were hungry."

"Always," she moaned dramatically, clutching her stomach. Her eyes brightened as she turned them to Edgeworth, as usual. In the middle of turning off the stereo, he turned as she spoke. "Mr. Edgeworth, why don't you come with us?"

Unsurprisingly, he shook his head. "Sorry, Maya. I really can't: I've got to get several reports back to the precinct before the chief of police leaves."

"But that's almost an hour from now!" Maya protested. I was never sure how she knew these things: she didn't wear a watch, and only in cases of food could she ever remember opening and closing times. Probably her stomach had a clock. "And the precinct is downstairs." Suddenly, she switched gears, eyes liquid and huge, face almost serious. "Please?"

Edgeworth opened his mouth, looking at me helplessly. Behind Maya's back, I held my hands up, almost unable to repress a laugh. "Well... I suppose fifteen minutes..." The thought suddenly occurred to me that he had no idea why it was so important to Maya that he go with us. That only made it funnier.

"All right!" I watched as she hooked her arm in his, their outfits clashing delightfully both with the room and with one another.

* * *

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

* * *

That had been Maya's first visit to Edgeworth's office. Supremely confident, as always, in her ability to improvise a cunning charm, she could always be counted upon to get Edgeworth to go to lunch with us, or to wheedle her way into his office one more time, or to guilt me into buying an extra coffee just to have an excuse to visit the twelfth floor on a busy day.

Now she was inside number 1201, invited in under a subpoena, and I, outside, had had literally nothing to do with her getting in. I noticed that I was tapping my foot on the rug and, with a conscious effort, stopped. I was more nervous about this case than I'd ever been about another: and I wasn't even the defense attorney.

I knew why she'd been issued a subpoena, of course. Edgeworth rarely shared his knowledge with whomever he was planning to face in court, so in the past I had never been privy to the details of the court. This was different: I was practically an aide to the prosecutor's office in this case, having been sworn in as a material witness on the first day and looked over the case files to give Edgeworth advice from a defense attorney's perspective. Not that he needed it.

So it wasn't just Maya's basic involvement that made me nervous: it was Edgeworth's desperation in calling her. He was so close to losing this case, to helplessly letting a guilty man go free and an innocent girl be charged with murder, that he... he was planning to...

I noticed that I was tapping the foot again, and sighed, dropping my head between my knees. My head ached abysmally. The whole scenario was unbelievable... and I couldn't even imagine what kind of anguish Edgeworth himself must be going through, resorting to this.

The door suddenly opened, and sitting up I could see light from within shining on its polished mahogany. "... just run in for a minute, and then we can be off," said Maya's voice, a moment before she appeared. Uncharacteristically, her shoulders were slumped, her face tilted downwards underneath drooping bangs. But as soon as she caught sight of me, her eyes lit up, and her posture changed entirely. "Nick!"

It was a conscious effort, and I knew it. Even as she threw her arms around me, I could tell she was still exhausted from a channeling session. But that was Maya. A Fey to the core, smiling when things seemed darkest. "Hey, Maya. I stopped by to grab you for dinner. Ready to head out?"

"Well, yes." She drew away quickly, tilted her head. "I have to run to the bathroom, but I'll be right back. Mr. Edgeworth's coming with us to go over a few more things with me."

"Okay," I said, trying to sound as happy as possible. Most of the time she couldn't fool me, but it went both ways. In the slight event that I could fool her, and appear happy, I would do my damnedest. As she danced off, I said, "See you in a minute or two," watching as she disappeared around the corner.

Then I turned my gaze back on Edgeworth. He looked awful, his face drawn and his eyes exhausted - I was reminded of a long-closed case where he himself had been the defendant. "Do you think it'll work?"

After a pause, he sighed, crossing his arms. "Yes and no. It really all depends on how Nina performs as a witness... again. If I can help lead Jones in the direction of having her describe his client in any small way, it'll be the major turnabout point."

"That's... that's going to be pretty hard to do."

"Tell me about it," he said sarcastically. After a glance at me, and a brief pause, his shoulders slumped. "Sorry, Wright. As usual, you're not really what's bothering me. This case is almost lost. I've ruined it beyond repair."

"No," I said quickly, but I couldn't summon the conviction to my voice like I'd meant to. And he heard it.

"Yes, I have. Unless I can somehow have Jones make Nina paradoxically introduce something about Carlson that only his wife would know, she's going to swing. No matter what help Maya can provide me." Edgeworth's voice was suddenly distant, his lips tight. He was right.


	2. The Case File

If Edgeworth, up to this point, has been stupid enough to keep living on the San Andreas Fault, it's no surprise that he keeps having to experience a few more earthquakes. Trying to keep my chapters short.

* * *

Chapter Two – The Case File

* * *

The case had started out so normally: it was a typical Miles Edgeworth one-day trial; or so it had seemed. The defendant, a real estate agent by the name of Mike Carlson, had been accused of murdering his wife. Edgeworth had calmly watched as Derrick Jones, the defense attorney, bungled Gumshoe's testimony to the point of idiocy, accidentally letting the detective introduce every piece of incriminating evidence against his client. For me, it had been a painful reminder of my first few cross-examinations.

Then, all of a sudden, I'd been suddenly called as a material witness by the defense. I had represented Carlson's wife Edith, the victim, in a grand larceny trial only a week before her murder, and during Gumshoe's testimony, Jones literally seemed to make up an excuse about needing me present to talk about Carlson's whereabouts on the night of the crime.

It had been the most embarrassing testimony of my life: Edith had, in fact, called me on the day of her murder and had insisted that I come over to look at her will. So I'd been forced to testify that Carlson, along with Edith's daughter from a previous marriage, Nina, had allegedly been away camping all that day and evening. It was his primary alibi, and it had been questionable before: but now it started to look almost unshakeable.

In the space of ten minutes, the tables had completely turned. Jones had produced a cabin rental slip, signed once the morning of the murder and once again the day after by Carlson, and had called up his defendant as a witness. Carlson had then proceeded to testify that he and Nina had gotten into a fight and she had called for a taxi to take her home. The owner of the camping grounds had appeared, volunteering information that Carlson had arrived that evening with a young girl, and had left in the morning alone. All of a sudden the blame for the murder was directly on her thin shoulders.

I'd watched on, Edgeworth quite obviously courting an aneurysm at the prosecutor's table, as the judge had called Nina to the stand. She'd made a lousy impression on the judge and the spectators, sullen and tight-lipped with black clothing, too many piercings, and bright green hair. But once the formal accusation of murder had spilled from Jones's lips, I suddenly knew he'd planned the whole thing, all along. Nina's eyes, rimmed in heavy black mascara, were abruptly wide, stricken, filling with tears in a hauntingly familiar way. And for the first time I could remember, Edgeworth had looked up from the prosecutor's bench, face desperate and haunted, to lock eyes with me.

Nina hadn't done it any more than I had: I only needed to look at her face to know it. On top of that, she had a relatively solid alibi. But suddenly all of the evidence was ranged against her, made to look as if she'd deliberately planted it. Needling, pushing, probing, Jones managed to use all of my own best techniques in court, and tease out the sordid history between Nina and Edith, who was, in fact, not Nina's mother but her stepmother. Edith's first husband had Nina with *his* first wife before their, Edith and Mike's, marriage, and Nina had never gotten along with Edith, even before Nina's father died and Edith had remarried.

Murmuring stole through the courtroom as they realized that Edith and Mike Carlson were both Nina's step-parents. That murmur rose to loud, angry buzzing as they came to the further conclusion that the ungrateful, sociopathic Nina was the killer, fueled by the desperation to get her hands on her real father's money, which Edith had inherited after his death. It was a nightmare.

* * *

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

* * *

Now Edgeworth had only one option left. Miraculously obtaining an extra day from the judge for investigation, he'd interviewed Nina at length in the detention center, and had spent hours poring over the case files. He had slept only two hours, by my count, since court had last let out, and both of them had been on the sofa in his office, while I paged through the case files highlighting things for him. There was only one way to prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Nina was not the killer, and that Carlson was. The evidence was there. Edgeworth was already reasonably sure that he could break the cabin owner's testimony, that he was lying and had been bribed. But the murder still required motive. And the only person who would know the motive... was Edith Carlson.

"Did... did the channeling go well?" I asked, feeling almost timid, as we waited for Maya to return.

"Yes," Edgeworth said, voice forcedly impassive now. "By this time tomorrow, Maya will have proved irrevocably that spirit channeling is a reliable form of court witness. If, that is, she's ever called to the stand." He looked as if neither option pleased him.

Just looking at him made me feel a little ill myself. The last time a spirit channeler had actually been called to the stand by the prosecution was almost two decades ago: the DL-6 case. Sure, spirit channeling had been called into the limelight during California vs. Hawthorne, but that had been trial incidence. No one had known that Iris, called to the stand, had actually been Maya in the form of Dahlia Hawthorne. And the case had ended disastrously, throwing the prosecutor's offices into a complete scramble for months. Like DL-6 itself, any reference to that case was almost always rewarded with a swift, disapproving change of subject.

I couldn't even imagine, then, how Edgeworth must be feeling. Years before he'd been forced to watch Misty Fey channel the spirit of his own father, who subsequently provided inaccurate testimony... and now Misty's daughter was performing the same service. Except this time, Edgeworth would have no mistakes made. Despite the fact that he was the prosecutor for the case, the rest of this trial for him would be an all-out defense of Nina Carlson.

"Yes. Edith made it quite clear," he said, interrupting my thoughts. "She can describe the murder in a way... well, in a way only the victim could provide. Beyond that, she can describe her husband's motive. The problem is getting reasonable doubt thrown into Nina's testimony so that I can call Maya to the stand." He glanced sideways at me, a tired, half-smile appearing. It was almost more sad than if he hadn't smiled. "But you know that, Wright."

"Yes." Maya was returning. Obviously she'd made an effort to smarten up: she'd scrubbed her cheeks so that they glowed an energetic pink. I felt a sudden helplessness, and not a little guilt: I should have anticipated Jones's move, should have known that he would twist my testimony against Nina. "Edgeworth, you know... if there's anything I can help with, just say it. I can help you look over case files again tonight."

"No," he said, as Maya rejoined us. "I hate to say this, Wright, but... you've got your own case tomorrow, remember? And you really can't be seen in my office again, not unless we want there to be talk of you fixing my witness. She's your assistant, after all. Your hands are tied."

"Well, I hope he can free them long enough to pull out his wallet," said Maya, far too cheerfully. But as she grinned at me, I saw some of the tiredness melting away, and a real spark light in her eyes. "I'm absolutely starving, Nick. Can we just go to the pizza parlor? It's so much closer than anything fancy."

I glanced over at Edgeworth, suppressing a sudden smile. He, too, looked amused. Maya never failed to comment that no matter where we ate, she always liked the food better, be it a fast-food burger or truffled quail, if it were closer to our current location. "That's all right with me."

"Let's just go before your stomach implodes," I said, with a heavy mock-sigh. Even if Maya and Edgeworth had to talk shop, so to speak, over dinner, all of our moods would be improved by the presence of a large anchovy pizza. Edgeworth's finicky dining preferences notwithstanding, he did occasionally seem to enjoy the casual comfort that came from sharing a booth at DiPietro's.

I was glad he was coming for another reason. He'd only just been released from the hospital a bare month ago - that wretched case of appendicitis had kept him there for almost two weeks - and I was worried that Edgeworth would run himself down. This case was really tearing him apart. What bothered me even more was that even Maya was actively worried about him. Most of the time her volubility just spilled out inadvertently, cheering everyone up without even an effort. But last night she'd expressed something completely different. "The last thing Mr. Edgeworth needs," she'd said furiously, doing a fantastic impression of an inflated blowfish, "is a messy trial like this. And poor Nina! He must be worried sick about her now! I could just kick that stupid Jones in the knees for pulling this trick!" I couldn't much disagree with that.

A bright dinging noise arrested my attention, and as I looked up, my stomach suddenly sank. Skipping ahead, Maya had headed straight for the elevators. My feet hesitated for a moment, trying to carry me in the direction of the stairs. I glanced at Edgeworth: his face betrayed nothing, and before Maya had even turned around from the doors, he'd adjusted his step to make it look like he'd been following her the whole time.

Well, if he was set on putting himself through it, there was nothing I could do to stop him. Strange: how whenever he and I went somewhere alone, it was taken for granted that we would walk however many flights of stairs were required. But like me, he would dissemble in any fashion for Maya's sake.

Yet another reason for me to stop being weak and just tell her already.


	3. The Ride Down

Remember that one week, where I wrote 15,000 words in fanfic (Back in the Knights) and 1,500 on my undergraduate thesis?

This is turning into one of those weeks.

* * *

Chapter Three – The Ride Down

* * *

The doors shut, the little light above them dinging to indicate what floor we were on. As usual, with a child's glee in pushing buttons, Maya had positioned herself directly in front of the panel. It was just as well: standing in front of the two of us, she couldn't see Edgeworth, who had quite simply closed his eyes. It was a completely different, much newer elevator: solid stainless steel instead of wood and glass. But the claustrophobic effect, I imagined, was probably not much different.

I was tempted to do the same, if only to summon a prayer that a random power failure or – worst day ever – an earthquake wouldn't occur on the way down. But I fixed my sights on the little numbers, one blinking out just as another lit. 12…11…10…

An almost uncomfortable silence had descended upon the tiny compartment. My thoughts were suddenly sprayed with memories of reading the DL-6 case file, the contents of which Edgeworth must surely be trying to push out of his own mind. But Maya could always be counted upon.

"Ooo, I'm so _hungry._" She clutched her stomach.

"Maya, when are you _not_ hungry?" I just barely saw the corner of Edgeworth's mouth lift slightly. Good.

She looked upwards again with that contemplative little moue. "Well, usually right after I eat a lot. When I'm sick I'm usually twice as hungry, and when I'm tired my stomach is the only thing I have to distract me." She beamed. "So, yeah. Whenever I've just eaten."

I had to laugh. Thank God no one was getting on any other floors – Edgeworth's unease was practically palpable, though his face was set in amused indifference, eyes once more open. This had to be the slowest elevator in the world, and if the door had opened I might well have made some excuse to get out. "Well, don't look at me, tonight dinner's on you. I'll probably have to skip out before we're done, remember? I have an important duty."

She pretended to pout – as if the thought didn't occur to her that if I didn't pay, some mysterious third person would – then said "Fine," in a sulky tone that didn't match her devious grin. "I forgot to go deposit that check from our last client for you, anyway."

I groaned, remembering. Since she'd been made an official "partner" in my tiny, unassisted law firm, Maya had cheerfully been doing quite a lot of clerical work, which included depositing and filing payments. The check was probably in her pocket right now. If either of us were serious, she would actually have the upper hand.

Finally a ding sounded, and the letter B lit up. Edgeworth very calmly (albeit very quickly) stepped out into the basement, and Maya changed gears, plowing after him. I wondered if she would ask if we could take his car. Probably. It was about three blocks to the pizza parlor, but she was never more gleeful when her nose was pressed against the passenger window of his BMW.

I myself didn't particularly care: as soon as we were finished with dinner, maybe before, I was walking over to the driver's licensing center, to finally take my written examination and to sign up for driver's practical lessons. If Maya were lucky, I would be engaged until long after she was done talking to Edgeworth for the night, and she could con her way into a more luxurious ride back to Wright & Co. than the city bus.

Not that I could blame her: today had been rough on them both. They needed distraction. The lights flickered slightly as I stepped into the garage, but I ignored them; all fluorescents, they tended to do so on a regular basis. No, they needed something more than distraction. Maybe after this trial was over all three of us should go out for a real dinner, and maybe take Detective Gumshoe, too.

The lights briefly blinked out. Even thought they came back on almost immediately, all three of us had stopped. "What was that?" demanded Maya, unperturbed.

I shrugged, moving to stand next to her. "Maybe a power surge." Even as I spoke, my eyes were on Edgeworth, and a lurking thought in my mind was thankfulness that this hadn't happened in the elevator. The lights flickered again, and Maya suddenly drew closer to me.

"Nick… you've got your phone, right?" she asked nervously, and as her hand came to my elbow, I groped in my pocket for the reassuring lump of metal and plastic.

"Yeah, it's –" I stopped talking as a sound rose, like the distant roll of thunder. Then I realized I wasn't hearing it, so much as feeling a vibration that had nothing to do with my phone. "Oh, great." Maya wasn't the only one standing close to me now. "Stairwell. Now."

My words weren't drowned out by any noise, so much as lost amidst the rising tremors in the ground. The vibrating stopped for a tiny instant, then the lights snapped out and everything started to roll. "_Damn it!_" I roared, groping for my phone with one hand and Edgeworth's arm for the other. Maya was clinging to me, and I bolted as fast as possible for where the stairwell had been.

Everything was happening fast, too fast: I couldn't get my phone to light, and we were fleeing blindly, Maya's arm snaked around my waist, Edgeworth dragging behind, all three of us struggling to stay upright as the asphalt bounced and swayed. "Run!" I tried to yell at him, but my voice was lost in a sudden noise: _God, let it not be the roof collapsing_.

My forehead suddenly slammed into something, my hands inadvertently rising to clutch my head. The pain was so blinding that I almost didn't notice the phone, which had fallen from my hand, finally lighting up in protest. "We're in the stairwell!" Maya shouted in my ear, clinging to me like a mussel. I briefly noticed that I'd whacked my head off the stair railing: the light from the phone was negligibly helpful, since it kept jumping up and down and side-to-side.

Somehow Edgeworth had managed to keep a death grip on my sleeve, and I was frankly amazed he wasn't curled up in a ball yet. I was tempted to do so myself: this had to be the longest earthquake I'd ever been through. Some part of my mind grouchily noted that it would probably be in the records.

A split second before I heard his low voice in my ear, his weight suddenly shifted against mine, and I lost my balance. Maya shrieked as I turned an ankle, lost my footing, and tipped sideways. She suddenly fell away as Edgeworth and I plunged to the floor. This time, when my head hit the pavement, all the sounds went out very suddenly, and with them my grim realization that he'd finally given in and fainted.


	4. Well, This Sucks

As I have proved with my Fire Emblem stories: when things aren't explained for me, I make them up myself.

* * *

Chapter Four – Well, This Sucks

* * *

I must have only been out for a few seconds. The tremors had gone, but I could feel and hear Maya next to me, shaking my shoulders and yelling my name. I was just grateful she wasn't slapping my face, like I'd seen in the movies. Still, I hadn't heard her this panicked since the very first time we met. A pervasive image in my brain was that of a teenage girl crouched next to Mia's body, sobbing, and I blinked to clear my head as fast as possible.

"Maya, I'm okay. It's all right, stop shaking me. Oof!" I'd tried to look up at her, and pain shot through my head. Not that looking was doing any good. My phone had gone out again.

"Oh, thank God." The panic faded from her voice a little. The silence and dark were unnerving, and I could hear the tremble in her voice. "Nick, I think I found your phone. How do you – " We both exclaimed and covered our eyes as it suddenly lit up, blinding in the darkness. Both of us laughed shakily, grateful for something to be amused at.

I tried to sit up again, but Edgeworth was sprawled across me, head pillowed on my chest, and my left arm was entirely trapped underneath me. Except for my arm shrieking in protest, and the fact that we were surrounded by rubble and dust, this might have been a comfortably intimate position. I managed to swallow a semi-hysterical laugh, and gulped a breath. Why were unconscious people always so heavy? "Maya, help?"

I managed to squirm out from underneath Edgeworth, though Maya wasn't much help. While she was calm again, her hands were shaking. "Okay, now I can sit up." I clutched my arm, the one that had been trapped underneath me; something must have broken when I landed on it, judging from the amount of pain shooting through my wrist.

"Do you think Mr. Edgeworth's all right?" asked Maya concernedly, holding up the phone. Its pitiful light bathed our surroundings in a bluish glow.

"I think so. You know how terrified of earthquakes he is. I'm pretty sure he just fainted." I hiked up a little more, grateful to find a wall behind me. "Ow. Hey… you're okay, right?"

"No," she answered, but firmly, and I saw a tiny smile. "I'm still hungry."

"Well, I hope we get rescued before you resort to cannibalism," I retorted, looking around. The phone's light didn't project very far, but then, it didn't have to. Part of the stairwell had broken apart, chunks of concrete scattered around on the floor, and door back into the parking garage was totally blocked. The ceiling inside the garage had indeed collapsed – strangely, the first thing that came to mind was whether or not the homicide division, located just above the garage, had survived.

"That was a really big earthquake, Nick," said Maya suddenly, breaking the silence. I looked over to find her gnawing her lip, eyes worried. "I wonder…"

I suddenly followed her train of thought and tried to summon a smile. Kurain Village was two hours' ride by train, and Hazukara was even further off. "Don't worry. Pearls and Iris and Sister Bikini are fine. Everyone in Kurain is, too." Dimly, I tried to remember what I'd learned about earthquakes in grade school, and an absurd urge to shake Edgeworth awake came and went. He probably knew everything there was to know about quakes. "It… it felt like a shallow-centre quake. Probably just local, right?"

Maya eyed me suspiciously, but she knew less about geology than I did, and she eventually shrugged. "Well, there's an easy way to find out what's going on." She kicked off her sandals, and assumed a meditation pose.

I just goggled. "What?"

"Come on, Nick," she said impatiently. "I'll channel Mia. Then she can ask Pearly what's going on and maybe get us rescued!"

I realized my mouth was hanging open, and with an effort closed it. "But… right now?" I looked up the stairwell. "I was going to try climbing up, seeing if there was a way out."

She looked up at the stairwell doubtfully. I had to admit that I sounded braver than I felt about the endeavor. Bits of concrete were dangling from wires, and the whole stairwell looked like it could collapse any second. "Um… are you sure? This is kind of like… a flaming bridge."

"It is not!" I said, and felt my cheeks flame red. She grinned at me, though.

"I'm just kidding. If you really want to give it a try…"

Well, it was either give it a try or admit that I really was too afraid of heights to hazard it. I stood up quickly before I could suddenly become to intelligent (and self-preserving) to risk anything. The first part of the stairs was fine, but the landing was where it had started to collapse. One step at a time, I made my way up to and across the landing, trying to avoid the biggest cracks. The landing stayed stable, and I found myself holding my breath as I stepped onto the next flight of stairs. Part of the railing had bent outwards, three steps missing altogether. I would have to jump.

Sighing internally – what, again, had made me think this was a good idea, besides the darkened, forbidding door on the next landing? – I balanced on the edge, and braced myself. I could feel Maya watching as I jumped across the three-foot gap, clinging onto the shaky railing for support, and heard her sigh as much as I felt my own.

It all seemed to be going well, and then as I stepped forward onto the landing, a groaning, scraping sound arose. "Nick, don't –!" Maya yelled out, before the concrete gave way and I fell back down into the stairwell, right where I'd been before.

All the breath knocked out of me, I saw stars for a moment; the fall had been from a moderate height, and worse yet, I'd landed on the same sore ankle and caught myself with the same bad wrist. Everything hurt much more now. Blinking hastily, I managed to prop myself on an elbow; Maya was crouched over Edgeworth, her hands over her head. Little bits of concrete were scattered everywhere, dust coating her hair.

Slowly she straightened up and glared at me, though when she scooted towards me I could tell she was worried, too. "That went well."

"Oh… be quiet," I wheezed, and shook my head slowly. "Ugh… definitely not the way out."

Her eyes were still on me, but Maya made a small "humph" noise, clearly indicating that she'd told me so. I laughed, and finally she grinned again. "My way's a little less dangerous, if you'd like me to try it."

I waved a hand casually, still trying to get my breath back. _Ow. Ow. Ow._ "If you like." Then a thought occurred to me. "Wait, how can Mia ask Pearls anything? Would we have to call Pearls and ask her to channel Mia?" Pearls was literally the only person I could think of who _could_ channel Mia, but there certainly wouldn't be any cell phone reception in this little cement box.

"No, silly." Maya assumed a meditation pose once more and spread her robes out somewhat fastidiously, flicking off bits of dust and rubble. "If Mia calls Pearly strongly enough, Pearly can channel her."

"It works both ways?" I asked dubiously, fascinated. Spirit channeling defied all logic, to me.

"Yeah," said Maya, quite confidently. "If the medium has a strong, trusting bond with the spirit who's calling, they can channel them without a second thought. It's especially easy, I think, if the medium has channeled that spirit before."

Well, that _would_ make it easy. Pearls had channeled Mia half a dozen times now. I felt almost a little guilty for summoning Mia so glibly, but… if the quake had been serious enough to partially destroy the police building, we might be waiting for some time to be rescued. That is, if someone didn't find out where we were.

"Well?" Maya said impatiently. "Turn the phone's light off, Nick! I need to concentrate."

But her voice was soft, and in the ensuing darkness I heard her sight in satisfaction. Sometimes I had the sneaking feeling that Maya was always there when I was in trouble simply because she was so good at getting out of it.

Channeling wasn't always instantaneous, and I was uncomfortable. I'd managed to prop myself up on my elbows, but it had long begun to hurt. The urge to shake Edgeworth came and went again – this time because I was worried. On a whim, I slipped off my jacket, folded it, and tucked it under his head, my wrist throbbing like crazy. There. It was probably a blessing that he was out cold, having slept so little in the past few days.

Another urge, to lie down beside him and sleep myself, stole over me. I laid a hand between his shoulder blades: he was breathing so regularly and slowly that I couldn't help feel jealous that he was so relaxed. Oh well. In all likelihood I had a minor concussion and was suffering from shock: it was just as well that I didn't sleep.

"Hello?" said a tentative voice. "Hello… is… is anyone there?" It was Mia.

Seized with relief, I hit the light on my phone. Mia's serene face was always transformed when framed by Maya's hair and outfit, but now it was altered with confusion as well. "Mia."

"Phoenix? Is that you? What's the matter?" she asked immediately, and we moved towards one another, my light bobbing.

"Earthquake," I said simply. She reached out to take my hand; hers was very warm, and I suddenly wanted to put my head on her shoulder and sleep. "We're stuck in the basement under the homicide division. Maya told me you could probably help, that somehow you could maybe… call Pearls."

"Mmm-hmm," she said, but her eyes were worried.

"Maya seemed okay," I ventured after a moment. "And I'm sure… well, I'm almost sure Edgeworth's perfectly okay. He sort of fainted on top of me."

Mia just blinked at that, and in illustration I shone the light behind me. "Oh," she said, and I realized she had thought Maya and I were the only inhabitants of this sad little cinderblock cell. "Phoenix, did you know that the back of your head is bleeding? And you've got a huge bruise on your forehead."

"Really?" I said in surprise, and reached behind my head. Indeed: the _entire_ back of my head was bleeding, sticky runnels of blood tracing their way down the back of my neck. I felt a little faint for a moment, but remembered Ema telling me something about head wounds bleeding more than others. "Well, that explains why my head hurts so much!"

Mia glared at me, but it lacked the blowfish appearance of Maya's glares. "What?" I tried to grin at her. "Hey, I'm okay. But could you help me get Maya out of here before she eats one of us?"

Unable to keep from smiling at that, Mia shook her head. "All right. Listen, Phoenix, I'll try and call Pearl to channel me, and leave her a note if she does. Or I'll even… well, that might not work…" she mused to herself, with a Maya-esque pensive look.

Her brow abruptly cleared, and her eyes rested on me with concern again. "Just make sure you stay all right. If I come back and you're not here I'll be mad."

I nodded, doing my best to look obligingly meek. "Okay. Mia… thanks."

She smiled again, sweetly this time, and squeezed my hand. I turned off the light, with a pang of regret. It was the same as every time. I loved Maya and Pearls dearly, but there was always a drop in my stomach and a sudden, biting tinge of wistfulness whenever Mia left. I knew she was happy where she was, but was always painful to think it might be the last time I saw her.


	5. The First Confessions

If you haven't read "Struggling Against Gravity" now's the time. No really, if you haven't done that yet, get lost. Come back when you finish it.

* * *

Chapter Five: The First Confessions

* * *

This time sleepiness was inevitable; I barely noticed that I'd leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes, when suddenly hands were shaking me again. "Nick!" Maya's voice was full of panic again, and she had apparently taken my phone, seeing as how it was shining in my face. "Nick, come on, wake up!"

"I'm awake! I'm awake!" I protested, squinting and reaching out to make her lower the light. "Sorry, Maya… I just got sleepy."

She glared – I was getting a lot of that today. But this time I could see the worry and exhaustion behind her eyes too. "Hey…" I held out an arm, and offered her the space beside me. After a moment's hesitation, Maya edged in beside me and put her head on my shoulder. "Mia said she would talk to Pearls… well, I mean she'd find some way to ask Pearls for help." I chuckled, thinking of it. "You know Pearls. She'll probably stomp down here and order someone to rescue us."

Maya giggled a little. "Yeah, her and Detective Gumshoe. I hope he's all right…"

"Pff. He wrecked his car, survived Franziska von Karma's wrath, and took on Furio Tigre. C'mon, he's invincible."

"Yeah, not like you," she answered immediately, but it seemed to be an afterthought, without any bite.

The phone's light went out, and I didn't feel like fumbling for it again. The ensuing silence was as close to peaceful as could be expected, only the sounds of breathing audible. A thought crossed my mind: what would happen to our trials tomorrow if we didn't get out of here? Mine wasn't a problem, seeing as how it hadn't even started yet, but… Edgeworth had already gotten a one-day extension for his, so it seemed unlikely that it would be delayed further, unless the entire courthouse had been destroyed. Strange ideas flitted through my thoughts: Nina having to defend herself, another prosecutor taking over Edgeworth's case, Maya never getting to channel Edith…

As if on cue, Maya spoke up. "Nick, can I ask you something… kind of weird?"

"Sure. Everything's weird, with you." I shifted a little, kicking away a rock that had been under my knee. "What about?"

"Well… about Gregory Edgeworth. Mr. Edgeworth's dad."

I started, my heart clenching. Edgeworth's father had not been far from my thoughts in the last few days, as the three of us struggled to repair California vs. Carlson via spirit channeling. But why…? "Edgeworth's dad?" I repeated, turning on my phone. Maya winced at the sudden brightness, looking down into her lap.

"Yeah. Was he… very strict? I mean, what was he like?"

I couldn't judge from her expression where this was going. "Well… I don't remember him all that well, but… from what I do recall, he was very kind. I guess he was probably strict, because I remember thinking Miles was really old-fashioned, but… it seemed like Gregory Edgeworth was always busy with his work. From what I hear he was a really amazing attorney." I swallowed, memories flooding back, both welcome and unwelcome. "But he was never mean or anything. I usually went over to Miles' house to play, because I thought his dad was cooler than my parents."

After a pause, she said, "Oh," in a very tiny voice. I looked up again to see a tear sliding down her cheek.

"Maya…" I shifted again, but towards her, and put my hand on her shoulder. Worry washed through me, only increased because for once I had no idea where her tears were coming from. I didn't usually consider myself terribly observant, but with Maya I usually did all right. Now… "Maya, what's wrong? Why did you ask?"

She took a deep breath, and sniffled a little. "Because… I think Mr. Edgeworth is mad at me. I asked…" Closing her eyes, she sighed miserably. "I asked if he would like me to try channeling his dad."

It was a long moment before I could think of anything, anything at all. Shock blossomed through me, and I could feel the blood rising to my face. Channel… Gregory Edgeworth.

Maya was crying again. "I felt so _stupid_ afterwards, too. He just kind of blinked, and turned a little paler… and said that even if he would like to see his father again, the feeling might… might not be mutual." I put my arms around her, almost reflexively, and her fingers tightened on my sleeve. "And then it was just… back to business. He didn't say anything else about it, and just asked me to try channeling Edith… Mrs. Carlson."

"Oh, Maya." I felt a little sick. Only she could be brave – and feckless – enough to ask something like that. What really tore at me, though, was Edgeworth's response to her offer. It wasn't all that surprising, I supposed, but I'd thought he'd gotten past the self-loathing stage.

Maya's sniffles had tapered off to a hiccup or two, and with a mighty effort she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Sorry, Nick. I hate it when I get all weepy like that. But…" She choked on emotion for a moment, then managed to swallow it. "I just feel awful for Mr. Edgeworth. He's been happier lately… I think. But he's so alone. I wish there were something I could do to help."

Then she looked up and saw the expression on my face. "What? Nick, what is it?"

I sighed, and sat back. "Maya, there's something I should have told you… well, that I should've been telling you all along. For months now."

* * *

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

* * *

So I spilled it – the whole thing. Starting with that first awkward dinner after Ema's testimony, and ending with what he'd said to me only a week ago. I kept hitting the unlock button on my phone, so I could watch Maya's face in the dim blue light. Confused at first, her expression became deviously cheerful. "_That night??_" she squealed at one point, unable to contain herself. "And I was in the _next room!!_" She clutched her heart.

"Maya, it was… I mean, it was almost accidental. We were both drunk, and we leaned over at the same time, and he…" I felt myself furiously blushing, and noticed that Maya was now studying my face. "Stop that! I just… I felt so dumb afterwards, because of what I said."

"Well I would've felt dumb, too!" Maya exclaimed, enraged. "Poor Mr. Edgeworth goes out on a limb to let you know how he feels, and you panic and blow him off!" She put her hands on her hips and glared. "_Men_!"

"Well, I didn't expect it! Would you have expected it?" I furrowed my brows and glared right back at her, and she giggled.

"Okay. Maybe not. So, then, you ran out the next day to fix things, right? That's why you disappeared while I was cleaning! What happened?"

As I continued explaining, it dawned on me that Maya was not particularly distressed. If anything, she was getting more and more delighted, like a matchmaker whose plans had gone perfectly as imagined. I'd never been entirely sure if Maya had been holding back feelings of any kind for me – if so, now was the moment of truth.

"And so, just last week, he gave me the ultimatum – just as he was starting this case, in fact. It was either I tell you, or he would. And until I made up my mind, the two of us… me and him… were officially on hold. We haven't…" I glanced over at Edgeworth, gladder than glad that he was unconscious. "Well, I guess there wouldn't have been time, anyway."

There was a short, breathless silence, broken only by the drip of water: something had started leaking nearby. "So?" Maya finally said. "Have you guys… you know…"

Her face was split in a grin of unbelievable deviousness, and I gaped at her, horrified. "Maya! That's…"

"I know, I know. Private," she said hastily, but she'd covered her mouth to hide the grin. "Well, that would explain it, though. I thought both of you were totally down all this week. Why didn't you just save yourselves the chastity and just tell me, Nick?"

I ignored the innuendo and shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Because… I didn't know how. And you're my best friend, so if you weren't happy I'd be even more miserable. I'm kind of a coward about that. And because…" I swallowed. "I don't know. I guess maybe Pearls and her 'Mr. Nick and Maya!' was getting to me."

"Oh no. She's right," said Maya, quite cheerfully. "Or at least, she was right about me for a while. I was deeply, madly, and hopelessly in love. But then I realized that you and me have too much fun together to ruin with something like that."

I studied her face. There was absolutely nothing hidden: I could hardly believe it. "Really? So… no complications?"

Her brows grew clouded, but I could tell her frown was gleeful. "Well, maybe we'd better keep the news from Pearly. For a while longer, anyway. Let her have her knight-in-shining-armor dreams."

Relieved, I laughed out loud. "You know what makes me madder than anything? That we haven't been friends for longer."

"I agree!" she cried out happily, and, feeling unnaturally affectionate, I threw my arms around her. A more uneasy thought floated through my brain, too: _It's even worse that Mia had to die for us to be friends…_

As we drew back once more, Maya said, "I hate to change the subject, Nick, but it's been an _awful_ long time since Mia left. I think I'll try channeling her again."

"Okay."

"Don't you dare fall asleep again!" Maya warned. I loved watching her face whenever she was expressing a negative sentiment, usually anger, whether she was serious or not.

"No, ma'am," I replied obediently, and turned the phone's light off. I could hear her crawling back over to where she'd assumed a lotus position before, and adjusting her robes. Silence reigned again.

It had been unbelievably easy. Here, all along, I'd been fearing that Maya would resent me for not having told her, or that she still liked me too much to be able to accept it. I'd seen the truth in her eyes, though: she hadn't been faking or pretending for my sake. "Maya…" I whispered to myself, more satisfied that I could ever remember having been.


	6. Keep Taking Deep Breaths

NO OOC FOR YOU. I swear!

* * *

Chapter Six: Keep Taking Deep Breaths

* * *

I'd put my hand between Edgeworth's shoulders again, and so it was that I felt him cough before I even heard it. It was a sort of sleepy cough, but it soon rose; his back came up under my hand as he came to his hands and knees, the cough clearly muffled by one hand.

A little woozy and not altogether paying attention – my wrist was really starting to throb in earnest – I was almost startled out of my wits when Edgeworth suddenly thrashed upright, knocking my hand aside. I could hear him breathing quickly, utterly panicked. "Edgeworth – are you okay?" The thought passed through me that holding my hand out when there was no light probably wouldn't do much good. Unfortunately the other though (to turn that light on) never appeared. I whispered again, "Edgeworth, over here."

A flailing hand brushed mine, then grabbed it, painfully tight. I felt him draw close to me, making a concerted effort to get himself under control. His breathing slowed somewhat, and finally he said, "Wright… where are we?" His voice was unbelievably tight, but pitched very low. "Is Maya all right? Are you hurt?"

I wondered briefly if he would shrug me away if I tried to put an arm around him. Probably. Even when he was panicked, breaking his personal distance took time. "We're fine. You?"

"I'm… under control," he replied tersely: I didn't have to see his face to know it was a lie. His hand still had a death grip on mine.

"Well, that's not exactly what I meant, but that's good. You've been out for the better part of an hour, I think."

Silence. Tentatively, I offered, "Maya is trying to channel Mia again. We asked her for help awhile ago, to see if she could maybe contact Pearls."

He still remained silent, and after a moment I heard the scrape of his shoes as he drew his legs up before him. The image sort of wanted to make me cry, but I sighed. This was impossible. "Edgeworth…" Disengaging my hand from his grip, I gently laid it along his shoulder, pulling him closer to me. Ever so slightly, I could feel him shivering. Clearly his fear of earthquakes hadn't gotten any better than had my own fear of heights.

After a moment, I felt him put his head on my shoulder. It felt so natural that it was only a moment later I realized it was the same way Maya had leaned against me: the motion implied utter trust. I wanted desperately to turn the light on, but feared it would somehow distract Maya's concentration more than our quiet voices would.

As if on cue, an exhausted voice said, "Nick?"

I groped for the light left-handed, wincing at the pain in my wrist as I did so. "Maya! You couldn't – was Mia –?"

"Someone else must still be channeling her," said Maya's disembodied voice. She sounded absolutely awful: I fumbled with the light, hearing her move closer.

When I finally managed to get my phone to come on, my stomach wrenched at how exhausted she looked. Dark circles underscored her red-rimmed eyes, her hands trembled, and even her bangs drooped. "Jeez! Are you all right, Maya?" I drew my hand from around Edgeworth's shoulder and reached forward to support her – almost _catch_ her.

"Fine. Just tired. It really wore me out, that's all. I should have given up the first try," she said, grinning at me. Then her eyes flicked to Edgeworth, and lit up a little. "Hey, Mr. Edgeworth – are _you_ okay?"

"Yes, thank you, Maya," he answered, less tightly than before. I sighed inwardly. The lengths we would go to…

"Maya, you should lay down," I insisted, trying to sound firm. Even in the blue phone light she continued to look more and more wan. "I'm sure Mia will be back soon."

"Yeah, probably," she answered. I reached over and retrieved my coat from where it had been, and handed it to her. Beside me, I could feel Edgeworth shedding his own suit jacket.

"Here. Lie down, Maya. We'll… you know. Stand guard."

She laughed, eyes flitting from me to Edgeworth. I realized exactly what she was thinking, and she laughed again as I flushed. "Okay. I do need a nap. You two… have fun." The note in her voice was unmistakable.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Edgeworth looking at me – it wasn't so much a glare as just a withering stare. "Go to sleep, would you?"

She smiled, laying her head on the makeshift pillow and closing her eyes. I shut the light off again, and as I did so I felt Edgeworth's hand descend on my knee, very slowly, in the darkness.

* * *

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

* * *

Both of us waited patiently until Maya's breathing had slowed, too low and regular for her to be faking. He was the first to break the silence. "You finally told her, didn't you." It wasn't even a question.

"I had to. Why, did you all of a sudden change your mind? Was I supposed to keep my mouth shut now?" I hadn't mean to sound so harsh, but sometimes Edgeworth drove me insane. He was just so damn _sensitive._

"No, I haven't changed my mind," he said tersely. "Don't be stupid. But how much, exactly, does she now know?"

I sighed. "That you and I have been seeing one another for several months… that I've slept over at your apartment before… that you gave me the ultimatum last week."

There was a pause. "So… no details or anything?"

I laughed, practically able to feel him glaring at me in the dark. He thought as highly of Maya as I did, but… He was so _frightfully_ private about his personal life that most of the time I felt honored to even be a part of it. "No. No details, except for that first night at my apartment. She did try, though. Quite gleefully."

"Hmm. That I'm sure about." Then he sighed. "I suppose she's not upset, then?"

I snorted. "Are you kidding? She was about as excited as Pearls would be if I told her _Maya_ and I were dating. Oh, speaking of whom… we agreed that we'll have to break the news to Pearls in a while. Maybe when she's grown up. In ten years or so."

"Mm," was the only answer. Somehow I was getting the feeling that he still wasn't satisfied – but not with me telling Maya. Even trying my hardest, it was always difficult to tell what was upsetting him. I knew perfectly well I wasn't the most intuitive of men, but Edgeworth was sometimes irrationally and frustratingly inscrutable.

I finally couldn't take the silence any more. "Should we still wait until your case is over before trying to resume things, though?"

He groaned, and I realized he'd temporarily forgotten about the trial from hell. "Sorry… I just don't want to mess with your schedule or anything." I hesitated, then added, "This case is killing you, Edgeworth."

"Tell me about it," he said, dully. "Jesus, Wright. What I wouldn't give to just drop everything for once, leave town with you and Maya and forget everything for a month or so."

I started, unable to think of a way to respond to such a blatant admission. "But," he continued. "I can't. Maya and I _have_ to win this case, Wright. And it's not as if you don't understand how I feel, for God's sake." His voice suddenly became muffled as he buried his face in his hands. "Ugh. What I wouldn't give to have you sitting across the courtroom from me."

I still couldn't speak for a moment; finally, I swallowed, and managed to say, "It would rather it be me, too. It'd be the second time you won against me… for the sake of justice."

He sniffed, half bitterly and half satisfied. "Yes, well."

"So what's stopping you _after_ this case?" I asked, somewhat tentatively. My heart was swelling in a way it never had before – such an open, honest statement of affection from Edgeworth practically took my breath away. He must be scared. "If, somehow, the fantastic team of Edgeworth & Fey doesn't work out, you'll want to get away, right? And if you win, then, well, you'll want a celebration."

Pause. "Can't," was the answer, once again muffled. Then he lifted his head and looked at me: I couldn't see anything, but I knew. "I've been asked to take another case immediately following this one."

"Edgeworth, you can say no!" I said indignantly. "What's the Chief of Police going to do, fire you? You've taken every high-profile case in the last two years and won every one!" Except one, but I wasn't yet annoyed enough to mention Lana's triumphant return to the court room.

He sighed. "Wright, this isn't like being a defense attorney. I can't just turn down something like this. I'm the district attorney, as well as the High Prosecutor, and if I don't take this case, no one will. Quite literally." He paused unhappily, adding, "Beyond that the mayor and police commissioner have requested that I take it. Apparently they think no one else is fit to prosecute another prosecutor."

Suddenly I realized what case he'd been assigned. My mind flashed back to Lana again, except this time in a detention centre. "Christ, Edgeworth. Does he have his own attorney yet?"

Edgeworth laughed mirthlessly. "Are you serious? Would anyone take a client who'd been caught and arraigned with murder by the great Phoenix Wright?"

I was silent, but only because I had to admit that he was right. It was like years before, when I'd taken my first case against the great Miles Edgeworth: except my client hadn't already been accused of murder by him. "So one of the most feared ex-prosecutors in L.A. is going to be represented by some scum hired by the county." I couldn't even bring myself to say that he had also been Mia's friend and lover: the pain was still too close to the surface.

There was no answer except a sigh, and I knew he was nodding. For a brief second I considered blurting out that I would do it – that I would defend Diego Armando; but I let it go for the time being. Even if I didn't mind take on a case I would inevitably lose, it would be near-impossible for me to even make it into court as Armando's representative lawyer. A defense attorney could, in theory, defend a client they'd initially charged with homicide during a court session. But in good faith I couldn't imagine defending someone and losing on purpose: and that's precisely how the judge would see it, if I _did_ lose.

I took a deep breath, utterly frustrated. If only Mia were here, I thought bitterly. I'd wracked my brains for ways to get Armando free of homicide charges, losing sleep after California vs. Hawthorne, poring over law books I'd never so much as looked at in my entire life. When the man known as Godot had killed Misty Fey, it had been a pre-ordained act: she herself had put down in writing that he was in place as a failsafe. Beyond that, at the time of attack, the body had been occupied by the spirit of Dahlia Hawthorne, so technically the case would only be murder in the second, if not simple manslaughter.

Unfortunately, when a client _wants_ to be found guilty, he or she inevitably is found so. Armando had no intentions of getting away with his murder.

"Anyway, Wright," Edgeworth suddenly said, startling me, "I appreciate the offer. But I have absolutely no idea how long that particular trial will take." His voice was more exhausted than anything else. "If it even starts. If we get out of here alive."

I snorted – then realized he was serious. I opened my mouth to say something, but further realized that there was not much _to_ say. Either he was right, and there was no way out – or we would get rescued, by some miracle brought about by Mia and Pearls.

Putting my arm around Edgeworth again, I finally said, "We're not going to die. Stop being morbid. Anyway, if we did, who better to do it with than me and Maya?" I'd meant it to come out very lightly, but somehow it didn't. I swallowed.

Still, he seemed to get my drift, and somewhat hesitantly his arm snaked around my waist. I added, "Look, just try and forget about everything for right now. Forget that… jerk… Jones, and the commissioner's request, and everything. Maya tells me that whenever she's mad or worried or scared, she just clears her mind of everything."

"This from the girl who argues over the difference between a ladder and stepladder," he murmured, but as affectionately as I'd ever heard.

I laughed. "Yeah, I know. But she's right. It helps."

"Better than a distraction?" His tone was unmistakable, and the urge to shake my head to clear it passed over me. I looked up, trying in vain to find his face in the darkness. This was completely unexpected.

"What the hell? Are you freaking out because it's dark or something?" I felt his free hand come up to my face, and added, hearing my voice quaver a little, "Do you lose all your hesitation when scared, Edgeworth?"

After a short silence, he simply said, "Yes."

It wasn't clear who moved forward first, but it was a testament to the many times we'd already kissed that our lips met unerringly. I could feel his bangs fluttering against my cheek, hands suddenly firm at my elbows, holding me in place. His mouth might have been hesitant, but somehow I knew he was more sure than he'd been in weeks. As was I.

His hands dropped to mine, tongue flitting along my lips – and suddenly a white-hot burst of pain erupted in my left hand.

I knew that I'd cried out, and broken the kiss violently, but the next thing I remembered was clutching my arm, desperately hoping it didn't fall off, bent double with my head practically in his lap. I'd never felt such severe pain before, sweat popping out on my forehead, nausea rocking me. It was a very long moment before anything besides my own rapid breathing registered. Clearly he'd pressed my hands between his in passion, but the motion had done more harm than good.

Edgeworth had remained totally motionless, as far as I could tell, except to place a hand ever so lightly on my shoulder. Eventually I gathered myself enough to sit up again, sniffling. "Wright," came the invisible voice, gentle but exasperated, "why didn't you tell me your wrist was broken?" I felt his fingers on my arm, and instinctively yanked it away. Tears of pain had run down my cheeks, and I could taste the salt. He sighed. "Wright. Give me your damn phone."

Dazed, it took me a moment to find it. His fingers, in taking it from my grasp, were warm and firm. A sense of security stole over me as he flicked on the light. I studied his face as he once more took hold of my left hand, but now carefully, for all the world like a paramedic would. His expression was fixed somewhere between a smile and wanting to roll his eyes. The thought flickered through my mind that if he was concentrating so ferociously, he certainly couldn't be frightened anymore.

I winced as he pressed slightly on my arm. "Wright. For the love of God, you've got at least two fractures in your ulna, probably three in your wrist, and one in your hand." This time it was all exasperation, and to my further mystification, he reached up and began untying his cravat.

I stared. "How the hell do you know that?"

"Because I practically qualify as a pathologist," he answered, somewhat acerbically. "Manfred von Karma made damn sure that every part of my trade was covered, which was to include examinations of wounds and trauma. Unfortunately I can't do much for you. These breaks need be set as soon as possible."

I shook my head as he threaded the long piece of cloth around my wrist, wrapping it tightly. The exasperated look hadn't left his face, but I knew perfectly well that other emotions were roiling underneath. Talking about von Karma was always a sensitive subject; and knowing what I did about Maya's recent channeling proposal, it was likely to be a raw one as well. There was no doubt, however, that he'd left Edgeworth with an impressive legacy of knowledge, in and out of court.

"Anyway," Edgeworth added, much more gently, "I'm sorry for hurting you."

I exhaled a half-laugh, shaking my head again. "It doesn't matter." His hands had lingered, moving further up my arm to rest on my elbow, and now I leaned against him.

"You're probably in shock," he added. "Tell me if your hands or face start to go numb or cold."

"I probably have a concussion," I grumbled, "from someone falling on top of me, and my head whacking off the floor." The moment I'd said it, I regretted it; but as the eventual result was him putting his arms around me, it didn't seem so important that he might be embarrassed. Saying anything would just aggravate that, so I shut up and leaned back against him. Before I began drifting in and out of conscious thought, it occurred to me that if he was worried about and annoyed with me, Edgeworth probably wouldn't be worrying about earthquakes.


	7. The Situation Turnabout

I tried to write this from Edgeworth's perspective and ended up just changing it all back to Phoenix's. Oh well.

* * *

Chapter Seven - The Situation Turnabout

* * *

* * *

Little by little, I finally fell asleep. Edgeworth didn't bother trying to keep me awake, though I got the distinct feeling that if I hadn't been lying in his arms, he probably would have gotten up and tried his own luck with the stairs. As it was, he sighed and stayed put.

The darkness kept creeping in closer around us as I dozed on and off; Edgeworth sighed again, and shifted his legs beneath me. At one point I heard him murmuring to himself; "There's no reason for it," he repeated at least twice, and in my dreaming state I imagined his state of mind. Just the memory of the earthquake probably clenched at his insides, viselike, made him think every heartbeat was another tremor.

I knew the feeling; even falling from the staircase landing, I'd felt a momentary panic completely overtake me, threaten to send me into hysterics. He was probably fighting the same emotion right now, I thought drowsily.

His heartbeat thumped against my cheek; I hoped desperately that I didn't have a concussion, though the likelihood that I didn't seemed slim. Still…his own brief unconsciousness had done wonders. Even nervous, he had seemed much less exhausted than before. Fidgety, even. Perhaps sleep would do me good, as well.

At one point he switched on my phone; a dim blue light shot up, momentarily blinding, to illuminate our surroundings. I felt an urge to grumble, but merely shifted in his lap, pretending not to wake. The light, I knew, was a defense mechanism against the darkness. Maya was still curled up in a comma a few feet away, face finally peaceful in sleep. I could barely believe she was not only old enough to drive, vote, buy pornography, and drink alcohol, but also manage an entire clan of spirit-channeling nuns. Somehow she contrived to look all of about fourteen, legs folded neatly under her robe, hair strewn around her in a shining black cloak.

Edgeworth, on the other hand… I reflected drowsily on what he'd looked like. Normally he did look rather tired, but not much older than his years. And me? The back of my neck was probably glued against his vest by dried blood, and a giant welt had swelled up to obscure the vast majority of my left eyebrow. I probably looked a fright.

A brief noise, a tiny groan, caught my attention, and I realised it had come from Maya. I opened one eye; Edgeworth's arms were tense around me. She shuddered in her sleep, grimacing a little - and suddenly glowed. It was nothing new to me, but I could practically feel Edgeworth's jaw drop as her face changed, her legs grew, and a full figure all but popped out of her acolyte's robes.

Opening her eyes, Mia sat up, blinked, and looked around, finally settling her gaze on me, then (either guessing that I was asleep or, more likely, shrewdly ascertaining that I was pretending to sleep) on Edgeworth. The look on his face must have been indescribable, because she suddenly let out a rather untoward giggle, hastily smothered. She cleared her throat. "Hello, Miles. Er… Phoenix did tell me that you didn't quite believe in spirit channeling."

He was silent for a moment, then managed a strangled, "Um." I wanted to laugh out loud, but knew it would hurt if I did. I took a deep breath, making myself go as limp as possible.

Finally, Edgeworth rallied himself. "I suppose I could have been …that cynical."

Mia's voice laughed in a low tone, and her hand touched mine. I could just see the expression on her face; concerned but wry, like a fireman who's rescued a kitten from a tree - for the fourth time that week.

"Well, I've got some results," she finally said, attention turning from me to the only ostensibly conscious person in the room. Edgeworth's arms tightened around me, as if he dreaded to hear her news. "Pearl and I have been working together to get the three of you out of here. It was a rather serious quake, and the fire department has been busy, as you might have guessed. But thanks to a certain detective and myself, they've been convinced of the importance of checking this particular stairwell. Someone should be coming rather soon."

Edgeworth's shock at seeing Maya transform seemed to be something he could get over soon. I wondered how long it had been since he'd had a deep-seated belief so abruptly and completely overturned. Probably just after his own trial. Believing in Mia's presence, he evidently trusted her word implicitly. "That is very good to know," I heard him say, rather stiffly, and quashed a rush of mirth. "I can't thank you enough, Ms. Fey."

I opened my eyes just enough to see Mia's expression: she was just looking at him, gaze flat and very much un-fooled. I felt Edgeworth shift uncomfortably, and hoped his cheeks were burning. _Why_, her look quite clearly said_, are you calling me that?_ Briefly, I wondered the same thing myself. Why, even though she obviously knew everything between Edgeworth and myself (she didn't need the omniscience of death to tell it, either: the very fact that I was lying in his lap with his arms around me did more than enough, I was sure) couldn't he just call her by her forename?

Probably for the same reason that Edgeworth and I found it impossible to refer to one another in that manner, was my mind's instant rejoinder. Or… perhaps not. A sudden flash of memory struck me, and I felt my face growing red, hoping that neither of them noticed. Mia couldn't possibly have divined my thoughts - she was ostensibly still staring at Edgeworth, presumably - but I stuffed them back down into my brain anyway. "Novice bimbo," he'd once called Mia; lately, it seemed as if I longed for her advice even more than when she'd been alive. My brain was further seized with memories of my first trial against Edgeworth himself, as an almost brand-new attorney: Maya had been accused of killing her sister.

_Those trials were long ago_, I thought furiously, trying to quell my suddenly-vibrant conscience. _Maya has long since forgiven him, and so have you_.

_Yes_, rejoined my conscience glibly, _but has Maya's sister? Has he forgiven himself_?

I forced myself to focus, to secretly look back up at Mia; her face was calm, and she clearly had not noticed my consciousness, let alone sudden and unwilling trip into the past. Evidently she felt as if she and Edgeworth had little to discuss; his body relaxed under mine as she continued. "I've got to get back to Pearl," she said, fastidiously drawing the edges of Maya's robes closer together across her expansive bosom. Had I been at all interested, the effect would have been paralyzing. As it was, it merely reminded me of someone else's (very different) body, and I was amazed and gratified when Edgeworth's arms tightened further around me. A momentary spasm of guilt overtook me: I was wide awake now, and this was turning into straight-out eavesdropping.

"The fire department will be wanting directions once more, and while Pearls can be quite frightening, she doesn't command as much respect as does a grown woman."

Edgeworth, obviously trying to recover, his composure, asked, "One dressed in Pearl's outfit?"

Evidently caught by surprise, she laughed, to my utter relief. "If that were the case I'm sure I wouldn't do much better. I've temporarily commandeered some clothing from an old friend, who's much closer to my fitting." Startled, I realized she must mean Lana Skye, as she went on. "I'm sure you'll see me again in less than an hour - and, as you noted, in something a bit more fitting than usual."

The joke - rather, the running gag - had eased the situation somewhat, and I felt a sudden urge to sit up and hug Mia. But it just wouldn't have done.

"Mia…" Edgeworth said finally, sounding even more stilted and awkward than when he'd used her formal title. "I…" His chest moved under my head as he groped for words and breath with which to say them.

She smiled again, and this time her hand came out to rest not on mine, but on Edgeworth's. "Miles… do you remember my very first trial?"

He seemed quite shocked. The trial that had cost her years of raw emotion, that had killed her client… and had lost her a lover. It was utter taboo for me to speak of it with Edgeworth. He hadn't caused its outcome, of course, but he certainly hadn't helped, either. She went on. "Yes, I know what you're thinking. And I know what you're thinking about your first trial against Phoenix, too."

Edgeworth practically gasped, as did I. Evidently we were all on the same track. I knew for a fact that Mia wasn't totally omniscient, but there was something to be said for spending time in the afterlife: she'd become even more intuitive than ever before. And that was saying something.

Continuing, she explained, "Phoenix tells me about you - and I gather less information from what he says than from what he _doesn't_ say. We've all made mistakes, and we've all been part of events that we greatly regret. Me, you, Phoenix, even Maya. And Larry. Larry, all the time."

She shook her head in mock exasperation, and Edgeworth almost choked with sudden laughter. I felt a spasm of irrational grief.

I inhaled deeply as Edgeworth's gentle (finally!) laughter shook him, and - taking a leaf out of Maya's book - curled up a little closer to him. Mia smiled, but with only fondness now. "Just take care of these two, will you? Especially Phoenix. He's…" She shook her head, as wordless as I. "You know."

"Yes," Edgeworth said dryly. I wondered briefly what, exactly, she meant: but as long as he knew, it didn't really concern me overmuch. Perhaps just that I didn't think before doing things. I knew perfectly well that I didn't, most of the time.

Mia laughed. "Don't worry about the past, Miles. Work on keeping the future happy." Pausing, she exhaled in satisfaction, and lay down once more, face going blank; in an instant, Maya's small body and expression were back, brows drawn together.

Immediately she sat up and yawned, stretching like a large purple-and-black cat. "Was that Mia?"

"Yes," Edgeworth said again, but this time warmly, with a tinge of fondness. Gratitude filled me: nothing made me happier than to see Mia and Edgeworth even partially patch up old relations. "She said that the firemen - and Detective Gumshoe, apparently - should be here soon to get us out."

I couldn't see her face, but her voice was full of light; it was moments like these when I hated myself for not having told her for so long. "That's great, Mr. Edgeworth! I never doubted it, you know. Ooh, I hope Pearly didn't beat anyone up too badly to get to us."

His low chuckle reverberated against me. Sleepiness was dropping its veil over me once more, though, and I didn't see her face when she timidly asked, "So… you and Nick…?"

There was a long silence; just as I felt myself slipping back into unconsciousness (quite willingly, this time), his answer to her was to lean forward and gently kiss my forehead. "Yes," he quite simply said.

* * *

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

* * *

Two people were calling my name (though differently), and it was with difficulty that I opened my eyes to stare blankly at them. Light was flooding the stairwell: but real light this time, bright and white and not coming from a cell phone. Struggling to sit up - the sleep had made me woozy, as unconsciousness often does to those not in full health - I blearily noticed that it, the light, was coming from the top of the stairs, where a group of figures were visible through the hole I'd made falling through the landing.

"Nick, wake up!" Maya was saying, her voice at once excited and full of tears. "Please!"

"I'm awake," I tried to answer, but it came out as more of a grumble.

This seemed to be enough, though. "He's okay!" she shouted up the stairwell, and now I could clearly see the tears on her face. "He hit his head earlier…"

"Come on, Wright," said a quieter voice, in my ear, and an arm under my shoulders unceremoniously hoisted me to my feet. "Mia's come back, but with help this time. We're leaving."

"That's good," I managed to say, looking over at Edgeworth. His face was practically a mask of relief, his eyes fixed upwards on the light. Several figures were peering down at us: I recognized Mia (dressed somewhat incongruously in a three-piece suit of Lana's, but with Pearls' hair and Magatama), several policeman, and at least one homicide detective. All of them were shouting down instructions to us. Someone threw down a rope ladder, that landed with a thump on the dusty floor, raising an eye-watering cloud.

Maya bent to take off her sandals and tucked them into a pair of voluminous pockets, before stepping forward to climb the ladder. I eyed it distrustfully as it swayed back and forth like a particularly unsteady suspension bridge.

"You're next," said Edgeworth's voice, and I turned to look at him. His face had become stern, and the argument I'd been about to give vanished. "I'll be right behind you."

I sighed and stepped forward; everything was proceeding like a particularly confusing dream. I'm not sure how I made it up the ladder - one uncomfortable step at a time, probably - but the next conscious awareness I came to was when someone at the top wrapped a blanket around me. Still standing, I was led by familiar faces through a group of totally unfamiliar faces; standing lamps showed the route through the unrecognizable building, until we reached the outside.

Maya's face split in a grin as a cheer arose from the crowd assembled outside: an ambulance was parked on the sidewalk nearby, but we were struggling to work our way there. Microphones jutted in our direction; an older woman (I knew her face but couldn't conjure a name) practically threw herself on Edgeworth, eyelashes batting frantically before she was none-too-gently restrained by a fireman; someone was throwing confetti, making it very hard to concentrate.

For some reason I still had an arm thrown around Edgeworth's shoulders, and so it was his ear I leaned over to speak into; "If I pretend to faint, will we get out of here faster?"

He snorted in amusement; the sound was lost in the crowd, but I could see it in his face. One of the fireman, behind him, had a similarly desperate sort of look, and judging the distance we still had to make it to the ambulance, it was merited. "If you wouldn't mind…"

I rolled my eyes up in my head and let my legs collapse entirely, falling against him bonelessly; not that playing up the part was too difficult. It did go faster that way: the firemen began insisting that the crowd part and let us through, paramedics rushed up and dragged us through, and before I could really think about it, all three of us were rescued.

The last thing I saw before actually letting myself slip back into unconsciousness were the Fey sisters, pressed desperately in one last hug, before the younger of the two turned away hastily and jumped into the ambulance with us. I closed my eyes, feeling someone's hand in mine (did it really matter whose? there were only so many options) and slept.


	8. A New Complication

The only part of _Struggling Against Gravity_ that I found wholly unamusing was the play Phoenix and Edgeworth were getting ready to see when Edgeworth's appendix exploded. There is literally no playwright I can't stand more than Samuel Beckett, and no play I despise more.

Ironically enough.

Anyway, I'm planning to continue this as another story… hope you enjoyed, and à bientôt!

* * *

Chapter 8: A New Complication

* * *

It was with no small amount of relief that I watched the hospital fade into the distance, in the rearview mirror. Edgeworth saw me watching, and while he naturally had the restraint not to comment, the look on his face was unmistakable.

I cleared my throat, wanting more than anything for both of us to forget public health services for a very long time. "So, thanks again for giving me a ride home, Edgeworth."

"What was I supposed to do, Wright? Let you take the bus?" But his voice was quiet and wry, not sarcastic, as it so often had been in the past.

For me the past three days had been a flurry of confusion and frustration; my doctor had forced me to stick around in the hospital until they could make sure my concussion wasn't more serious than anticipated. They'd reluctantly released me with strict orders to take it easy, which I fully intended to disobey.

Meanwhile, I'd been forced to watch the grand finale of the trial against Mike Carlson on the television - fortunately it had been so dramatic that someone from the local programming channel had found it interested them to tape the entire thing. Edgeworth, of course, had been superb. Objection after objection, he'd led Jones into questioning Nina about the actual murder itself, until the judge had ordered either the prosecution or the defense to produce a more useful witness. Edgeworth had obliged with Maya, who promptly and cheerfully channeled an immensely helpful Edith Carlson.

It had obviously been a landslide victory from that point. Once the judge (and the court audience) had been convinced that Edith was real, her testimony of Mike's attack on her, and her subsequent explanation of Mike actually _owning_ the cabin that he'd claimed to rent, had entirely turned the tables against her husband. Nina was called one last time, to testify that she'd left the cabin and stayed in a broken-down shack formerly owned by a boat caretaker, inhabited only by a parrot (Edgeworth's expression had been indescribable), and the case was decided.

I watched wistfully, wishing I was there, as Nina (reminding everyone of a certain Ms. Andrews) ran to the prosecution's bench and threw her arms around Edgeworth. General laughter had been the audience's response, then applause, as he awkwardly patted her back and smiled, confetti raining from behind the bench.

Meanwhile, I'd made a few calls and reassigned my next two cases, asking a favor from a friend of mine who was also a skilled defense attorney. I would have felt more guilty about it, did I not know that his primary talent was in ascertaining the truth behind the case, and winning or losing accordingly.

The earthquake had left the city in a state of uproar, though the only building that had sustained any serious damage, of course, had been the police building. Everyone being held in the detention centre had been transferred to county holding cells nearby; most of the detectives in the homicide division were either working from home or had been given temporary desks in the same county police building their criminals were inhabiting. The same held for most of the state prosecutors; with the exception of the High Prosecutor, who, with his usual ability to control everyone in the office, had managed to have everything from his quarters transferred straight back to his apartment's office.

"Fools," the High Prosecutor himself muttered aloud, startling me out of my reverie. I followed his gaze, though it wasn't hard to tell what he was looking at. A mass of people, the majority of them reporters, was making its way down the courthouse steps. At the centre, a knot swirled around three or four people, clearly leaving the courthouse after a momentous trial.

I was just beginning to wonder whose case it was (I hadn't seen anything on the local court channel about a large trial), when I realized what day it was. My heart practically stopped as I saw the defendant, his leonine thatch of white hair held uncaringly above the crowd, belying the shoulders held stiff against handcuffs.

"Edgeworth, you're…" I gasped, and he looked at me sharply. If the trial had started today, then why… "I thought you were prosecuting his case!"

His face utterly closed, like the locking of a safe, and I felt a sudden fear clutch me. "So did I," he responded bitterly, guiding the sports car past the crowd, which had spilled out onto the street, and almost running a red light trying to get us away from the crush. Once we'd pulled onto an almost-deserted side street, he finally let out a breath of irritation. "Yes, I thought I was prosecuting that case, too. Until someone else stepped in."

"Who?" I demanded, without thinking.

Edgeworth was silent for a moment; it was really almost none of my business, but I was already too personally wrapped up in Diego Armando's future to really care about court protocol. Finally, he answered, "She thought you were going to be defending, so she flew in. I managed to keep myself clear of the courthouse today: apparently she had a minor aneurysm when you weren't there. The judge is still recovering in his chambers."

My eyes flew wide, and I shuddered. "Oh, my God! Franziska von Karma?"

Now I saw it: Edgeworth's mouth was twitching as he tried to repress a smile. "Yes, Wright. That's why the trial has been postponed, and that crowd is outside the courthouse. Didn't you see her?"

I shook my head. My eyes had been only for one person. "So… what happens now? Do you think she'll finish out the prosecution?" Then something occurred to me. "Wait just a minute! What gave her the impression I'd be the defense attorney for the case?!"

Edgeworth suddenly stopped the car, yanking up the parking brake abruptly; we were in front of the building that housed Wright & Co. "Because, Wright," he said evenly, "she looked over the case files that I'd sent her, asking for advice, and thought you'd be irrevocably drawn into the case somehow. Like her or fear her, Franziska is a talented judge of character. Beyond that, yesterday Maya called Jeffrey Lowles, Armando's attorney, and asked if there was any way your office could help. Franziska felt beyond a doubt that she'd be facing you in court today, and demanded that I give over the case."

I groaned and put my head in my hand. Maya had done _what_? "Lowles, in a delightful twist of irony," Edgeworth added, "is now in the hospital, recovering from Franziska's wrath, though I hear it's doubtful he'll be in court tomorrow."

"How does she get away with that?" I demanded, raising my head to look at him.

Caught off guard, Edgeworth snorted faintly, and smiled. "I'm not sure. Fear is a powerful ally, you know." He looked up at the building. "Come up into your office for a minute, Wright. There's something you should see."

I managed to struggle out of the car - the ankle I'd twisted still ached, but I'd promptly left the cane the doctors had pressed on me sitting against the hospital's front façade - and up two flights of stairs, without incident. My ring of keys for the office were presumably with Maya right now, so I pulled out my wallet and used my extra key to unlock the office door.

A faint hope sprang up as the door opened before me; maybe Maya and Pearls would be here, waiting to greet me. Perhaps that's why Edgeworth had brought me here first…

But the small office was silent, if completely spick-and-span. Edgeworth didn't wait for me, but breezed through the sitting room where Maya usually reigned as queen, and into my office. Lights were turning on as I followed him; I noticed that the plant in the corner was still alive, obviously thanks to Maya's attentions.

Several files were arranged neatly on my desk. Edgeworth picked up the very last, at the bottom of the stack, and handed it to me. Taking it one-handed (my left was in a sling and would be for some time), I took a deep breath. _Armando, D_. said the label at the top.

"I knew you wanted to take this case," he said quietly. I opened the file, shocked, barely seeing its contents; I knew them all by heart, anyway. "Everyone knew, really. And until now it simply wasn't possible for you to take it. Even though the laws of the courtroom didn't specifically prevent it, your reputation was such that everyone in the prosecutor's office knew you wouldn't be able to take the case. But even before Franziska arrived, Lowles had clearly bungled the investigation beyond repair. The judge was desperate to find someone else who could properly defend such a notorious client, but couldn't do anything about it." Edgeworth paused, and put his hand on my shoulder, almost hesitantly. "Now he can. He demanded the case files from Lowles… and sent them here."

A sudden jubilance ripped through me, a vision of Mia's face tempered only slightly by memories of a whip slashing through the air at me. "So I can…" I choked. "But Edgeworth, everyone knows I have to lose! They know I can't properly defend him!"

He smiled ruefully. "Yes. The judge knows it: what's more, the prosecution knows it, and that's one reason you're perfect for the job. You'll do your damndest in this case despite the fact that you and your defendant both already know the outcome… whereas other attorneys wouldn't even bother putting up a fight."

I stared at the file in my hand, letting it fall closed, and set it back on the desk. "The press is going to have a field day."

"Yes," he answered, unconcernedly. There was a pause. "Wright, you can say no. It will be reassigned."

I looked at him in horror. He nodded, satisfied. "I thought not. Well… you can start on it tonight, or wait until the morning. Trial starts at eleven a.m. in District Courtroom 3."

I shook my head, still unable to believe that the only case I'd ever wanted and had been denied was now sitting on my desk, ready for my defense. One last thought occurred to me. "I wonder if it bothers Franziska that it won't be anything of a challenge to beat me."

"On the contrary," he answered darkly. "To the best of my knowledge, she considers this to be your penultimate challenge."

I finally couldn't contain myself anymore, and laughed out loud, until tears came to my eyes. Sitting down in my desk chair, I said, "Well, since I'm destined to lose, at least she won't whip me into unconsciousness again."

"No, I think this may end her morbid fascination with defeating you, Wright," he admitted, delicately perching on the edge of my desk.

There was a long silence; I felt irrationally satisfied, in a way that I hadn't for a long time. I looked up at him; "Did you influence the judge in my favor?"

Unashamedly, he shrugged. "Perhaps."

A sudden memory struck me once more: Edgeworth, miserably curled into a ball next to me in the stairwell, both of us covered in grime and leaning on one another for support. His eyes were clear now, fixed on me, and even back to his normal self, there seemed to be some layer of reserve missing. "Thank you," I said simply, and laid my hand over his.

He had the composure to briefly look embarrassed, and as if he wanted to remove his hand from my touch; but awkwardly he reached out and touched my face. "It… it was my pleasure."

Feeling as if everything were right with the world, I finally stood, irrationally wanting to slide an arm around his waist, yet knowing in my heart that it would satisfy both of us more to wait until later. "Come on. Do you think Maya and Pearls have finished doing whatever it is they're doing to welcome me home yet?"

He closed his eyes and turned his face heavenwards. "One can only hope, Wright." There was a hint of a smile in his voice, and as we left the office I fancied that his eyes were ahead of me, making sure I didn't trip.


End file.
